


is there somewhere

by kinkynewt



Series: BADLANDS [1]
Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Friends With Benefits, Gay Sex, Kind of angsty, M/M, Ouch, based on halsey's is there somewhere, part of my new fic series, very short, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 03:05:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4505271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkynewt/pseuds/kinkynewt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saying that he and Thomas had somewhat of a brief history was an understatement. He dared say that it was much more than that. When this little routine of theirs where he and Thomas somehow ended up naked on Newt’s bed started was hard, but if Newt thought hard enough, through the alcohol and cigarettes, he could place the exact moment.</p>
<p>Based on the song 'Is There Somewhere' by Halsey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	is there somewhere

**Author's Note:**

> HELLO FAM!! this very very short one shot is part of a new series of short newtmas one shots that i am doing based on halsey's songs. songs from room 93 and some from her upcoming album, badlands (coming out late august!) will be featured.
> 
> this first one is based on 'Is There Somewhere'. you can listen to it here https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=686SmDtBOu8 or just search it up on youtube or spotify or apple music. it is recommended that you listen to it while reading this.
> 
> i hope you guys like it! (sentences in italics are the lyrics)

Most of Newt’s nights were filled with hot chocolate during the winter times, and lemonade during the summer. Both of these drinks usually included his best friend, Thomas by his side. Saying that he and Thomas had somewhat of a brief history was an _understatement._ He dared say that it was much more than that. When this little routine of theirs where he and Thomas somehow ended up naked on Newt’s bed started was hard, but if Newt thought hard enough, through the alcohol and cigarettes, he could place the exact moment.

  _You were dancing in your tube socks in our hotel room,_

_Flashing those eyes like highway signs._

_Light one up and hand it over, rest your head upon my shoulder._

_I just wanna feel your lips against my skin._

Once in a blue moon, Thomas and Newt would take random road trips through the night, and ended up sleeping at some dodgy motel before heading back the next morning. Thomas was dating Brenda at the time, and two had some petty argument over Thomas cancelling their date, or at least that’s how Newt remembered it.

Before he knew it, Thomas was pulling Newt into his Jeep and the two went speeding off into the dark. Thomas was looking shagged up that night, hair messy, cheeks hollow and his hands clenched on the steering wheel. They had ended up at some cabin by the side of the road, Newt estimated that they had been driving for three hours.

They were just talking in their room, when Newt realised how absolutely gorgeous and soft and pink Thomas’s lips were, and how the brunet’s brown eyes were staring into his own. The two of them were almost drawn to each other like magnets, Newt reaching for Thomas’s arm while he reached for Newt’s cheek. The first time they had kissed was explosive in a way. The kiss was hungry, desperate, demanding for more.

If Newt’s head wasn’t blurry with alcohol, he probably could’ve remembered that Thomas was with Brenda at the time and stopped, but he _couldn’t._ He never realised it until then, but all those lingering looks he found himself giving Thomas multiple times meant something. Something more than friends. But not as lovers, it was somewhere in between.

_White sheets, bright lights, crooked teeth, and the night life._

_You told me this is right where it begins._

_But your lips hang heavy underneath me._

_And I promised myself I wouldn't let you complete me._

That night had ended up in Newt pressing desperate kisses on Thomas’s neck, Thomas’s nails digging into his back, legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

It ended up with Newt wrapped tightly in Thomas’s arms, the scent of sex still lingering in the air.

It ended up with the truth being knocked into Newt’s stomach at a million miles per hour, that this was probably a fling to Thomas, a way to get his frustrations out.

It ended up with him ignoring his heart which was still pounding the morning after. Newt ignored the faint blush on his cheeks when he rolled over and discovered that Thomas was still there, peacefully sleeping, his arms wrapped loosely around the blond’s waist.

Maybe if Newt ignored it, his feelings wouldn’t consume him.

_I'm trying not to let it show, that I don't want to let this go._

_Is there somewhere you can meet me?_

_'Cause I clutched your arms like stairway railings._

_And you clutched my brain and eased my ailing._

That time wasn’t the last time. Sometimes a simple crash revision sessions of them trying to memorise chemistry formulas could end up with Thomas pressed against the wall, Newt thrusting into him.

But Newt realised how much he stared at Thomas, how much it hurt looking at him and Brenda hold hands in public and how he felt so much more than pure pleasure when he was having sex with Thomas. He knew all of these were a recipe of disaster, but he couldn’t stop going back to Thomas, and he knew Thomas couldn’t resist either.

The answer to why Thomas wouldn’t just break up with Brenda and date Newt instead was easy. Thomas just didn’t see him as actual _boyfriend_ material. And to Newt, that hurt, stung in the gut, whatever analogy’s he could think of that at least could sum up a quarter of what he’s feeling.

_You're writing lines about me; romantic poetry._

_Your girl's got red in her cheeks, 'cause we're something she can't see._

_And I try to refrain but you're stuck in my brain._

_And all I do is cry and complain because second's not the same._

The first drawing was placed neatly in between the pages of his chemistry textbook, along with a post it note stuck on the front of it.

Hey Newt, drew a little something during lunch today. I hope you like it. –Tommy

Newt’s mouth went dry and his breath hitched. It was a drawing of him. From Thomas. It was a sketch of his side profile, with lightly drawn roses around him. _Holy shit._

Newt didn’t know what to think of it. On one hand, it was beautiful, gorgeous, pretty, stunning, all of the damn adjectives he could think of in one go. But on the other, what did this mean? Newt was very much aware of his heart pounding so loud that he could hear it in his ears, feel it in every part of his body.

His fingers trailed lightly over the pencil markings, biting his lips. He decided to just pin it up on his wall. Maybe seeing it every morning could make his days just a tiny bit better.

Newt knew that Thomas was working on a painting for this art gallery event that their college was holding. Heck, the whole goddamn year level probably knew. Which was why he wasn’t surprised when he gathered their little group to unveil his apparently, _priceless_ creation.

Thomas looked so excited, it was actually cute. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, biting his lip hard to prevent him from smiling. Newt found himself seated beside Brenda, with Thomas in front of them, his drawing that was covered by a sheet of cloth beside him. Minho and the others were there too, but everyone, including Brenda faded away when Thomas pulled the cloth away.

It was him. Again. Newt sucked in a deep breath, as he looked at _that fucking painting._ It looked pretty good actually, and from the way Thomas was beaming at him, he was proud of him.

“So… Uh… I decided to paint based on the topic of ‘beauty’ and um…” Thomas stammered, hand moving to rub the back of his neck. “So I drew Newt and Brenda, the two people who I love the most in the world.” He shuffled to lift the painting of Newt up, revealing the painting of Brenda behind. Thomas held the painting of her, his body swaying slightly.

“So, ta da!” He said, his voice muffled. Everyone had clapped, at least Newt thought so. He turned to look at Brenda. Her face was red, a smile forming slowly on her lips. Once Thomas had set the paintings down, she ran towards him, kissing him.

Newt looked away and bit his lips. Multiple emotions were running through him at that moment, and it was driving him sick. He stood up and took one more look at Thomas, who was surprisingly staring back at him.

The blond gave him a weak smile and turned away, walking towards the exit. He felt tears prick painfully at his dry eyes, and he hurriedly blinked them away. Newt looked back at the happy crowd, and his eyes found their way to where Thomas and Brenda’s hands were intertwined.

He walked out.

* * *

 

_I'm sorry but I fell in love tonight._

_I didn't mean to fall in love tonight._

_You're looking like you fell in love tonight._

_Could we pretend that we're in love?_


End file.
